


mark me as a sinner tonight

by crookedspoon



Series: Trope Bingo [6]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012), Suicide Squad (Comics)
Genre: Abuse of Authority, Community: seasonofkink, F/M, Fuck Or Die, POV First Person, Voyeurism, belt whipping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-14
Updated: 2015-02-14
Packaged: 2018-03-12 21:34:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3356060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crookedspoon/pseuds/crookedspoon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The choices are simple: either you do as we say or you can choose how we're gonna kill you.</p>
            </blockquote>





	mark me as a sinner tonight

**Author's Note:**

> For seasonofkink, prompts " _Authority figures, Pervertibles, Servitude, Rimming/licking, In public_ " (though I'm not sure how well they found their way in here) and tropebingo, prompt "fuck or die." Also fills "Do me, do me!" from the Suggestive/Innuendo card at 1mw's February Bingo.

Since we brought her in, the bitch has done nothing but babble and whine about boredom. She's starting to get on my nerves, telling me how to do my job.

"Hellooo? Are you even listening? If this is supposed to be an interrogation, you're not doing a very good job of it. You're supposed to question me, ya know, maybe torture me to get some information outta me. Waller already tried that one and fat lotta good it did her. _Oh,_ I get it now. You're not talking to me in the hopes that I'll grow bored enough and start blabbering all my secrets. Well, here's the thing: I still can't tell you any more than what I already told your boss. I don't know anything. Seriously. Or do you think that just because I was misguided and in love with a creep who didn't appreciate me that I would continue to keep his secrets? Haha, you're so funny."

"Don't you ever stuff it?" I growl. I'm tempted to slug her so she'll shut up, but she's the Joker's chick – chances are she gets off on it.

"I'm bored here. At least give me something to play with. I mean, what's the point of me sittin' around in a room that stinks of shoe polish if you're not gonna talk to me anyway?"

"You'll see soon enough."

"Ooh, a surprise. I love surprises! Though, I guess this is more of a pie-in-the-face kind of surprise, am I right? I hope it's butter cream at least, I love butter cream. With chocolate sprinkles. And cherries. But not the disgusting ones you get on a Black Forest cake, for example. They look pretty, all glowing red, but taste awful. Kind of like the food here, except that it looks gross too."

I'm beginning to wonder what's keeping the guys. The walk down here ain't exactly an Olympic route, so something must have come up. Can't be Waller, though. She's outta town. Part of the reason we're doing this – no one to breathe down our necks. Perks of the holiday shift.

Finally, the door opens and Ray enters, obscuring the oblong of light that spills from the hallway.

"Special delivery," he calls, grinning wide and tugging his quarry after him.

Quinn cranes her neck to see who it is. "What's he doing here?" she asks, when she spots the newcomers. Lawton follows Ray inside, stone-faced as ever, as if there was no MP5 at his back, waiting for him to make a wrong move. At least he gives me the satisfaction of flexing his jaw muscles when he spots me. Probably thinks this is about Reno. Well, it might be. I swore I'd pay him back, but somehow I don't think he's gonna complain about this one. I know I wouldn't.

"Your surprise, fruitcakes," I say and motion the guys to bring him forward. Jake shoves Lawton, who stumbles against Quinn's chair, ankle cuffs not allowing for much free movement. He growls something under his breath, but she pays him no mind.

"Is this gonna be something like a group therapy session?" She makes a face. "That's not what I ordered. At least give me a pad and fake glasses so we can make this look official."

"You wanted something to play with, didn't you? Well, guess what. Today's Christmas. Have at it."

Apparently she still doesn't get it and squints suspiciously up at Lawton. "Him? What do you take me for? A kid who wants life-sized Ken dolls under her Christmas tree? Nuh-uh. I'll have you know I'm the kind of girl who likes Lego bricks and chemistry sets and firetrucks, that sort of thing. Oh, roller skates. And baseball bats. Jigsaw puzzles are okay too, but I keep losing pieces."

"Why am I not surprised?" I ask wryly. "Unfortunately for you, we ain't got any of that on offer. Guess you'll have to make do."

Ray folds out a chair he picked up from the stack in the corner and forces Lawton down on it.

"So here's the deal," Jake says, eager to get the rules out in the open. "It's simple: you two lovebirds are gonna do exactly as we tell you. I don't wanna hear no complaints, or what a shitty day you had, or that this brings back memories that upset you. If it does, boo-hoo, get a grip. We just want you to follow orders, capisce?"

"I suppose you'll leave it up to us to imagine what happens if we don't," Lawton says. His tone is even, unimpressed, as if he expected something like this. Lawton is no stranger to correctional facilities, and has probably seen the inside of more than I have worked at. Perhaps he's been waiting for someone to pull a stunt like this, perhaps someone already did, though I would know if it had happened at Belle Reve. The guys look up to me here, they'd have included me.

"You can take your pick between a bullet or the bomb in your head."

Quinn whines. "Do I _have_ to choose?"

"You can choose to comply," I say, "which would be easiest for all of us. And who knows, maybe it'll be fun for you, too."

"I guarantee it will be," Ray says, moving around me to the other side of the table.

"Whoopie!" Quinn exclaims. "I'm always up for a round of fun. What do we do? Blow up hospitals? Prank call B-man? Rob a jewelry store? Whatever it is, count me in!"

For a second I wonder if she's leading us on, or if she really has no clue what we're on about. Either way, it doesn't matter. She wants fun, so do we. Win-win all around. If it weren't for Lawton.

"I'm not playing," he says, as though he had a choice in the matter. Not so, my friend. Geneva won't help you here. 

"Strange," Ray says and bashes Lawton's head against the table. Quinn jumps in surprise, as far as her chains would allow. "Can't remember giving you that option."

"Bite me." Still with the attitude. Those inmates never know when to pick a fight.

"I oughta bash your brains in," Ray snaps.

"Why don't you?" Lawton replies.

"Leave him alone," Quinn says. Her voice has taken on a new cadence, lower, almost sultry. That little display of violence seemed to get her going. "I already said I'd do it, Deadeye. This ain't worth getting your teeth chipped over."

"I don't think you realize what they're asking," he says. Ray lets go of him.

"And I think I might have a fair idea. Scoot closer?" Instead of waiting for him, she shifts in her seat, the chain on her cuffs giving her just enough leeway to grab his shirt. She yanks his face up and _licks_ into his mouth as though planning to suck out his tonsils. Lawton moans, probably as surprised as we are. Damn, that bitch might be crazy, but she is fucking hot as hell.

Lawton lifts his cuffed hands over her head and pulls her closer. She mewls and writhes, her whole body vibrates as though she wants to be drawn in but can't. Instead, she tilts backwards, bending over the table. Lawton lets himself be dragged, unable to break the kiss, until his has to get up from his seat and lean over her. As far as performances go, this one's not bad. Not bad at all.

The boys agree, of course, and cheer. "Yeah, man. That's what we're talking about." 

Quinn stares at us upside down, grinning like a loon, and giggles. "Does that mean our work here is done?" she asks, but makes no move to get up or even let Lawton go. Her ankles are hooked around calves, her knees spread wide, hips undulating against his. She can't tell me she wants to stop now.

"You work here hasn't even started yet," I say, relaxing in my chair.

"Uncuff me at least," she says, twisting and groaning. "This is _so_ uncomfortable. I'm not gonna run if that's what you're afraid of. Wouldn't wanna ruin your night."

"Sorry, girl. Those cuffs look good on you, they stay on."

"Oh my God, so that's it: you're afraid of me," she drops back onto the table and hoots. "That's so cute. Don't you think so, Buckshot?"

"With you, it's a necessary precaution, I'd say." Lawton has taken the opportunity her full-body laughter provided to extricate himself from her and take a step back. Apparently, he's as wary of her as we are.

"Aww, you're a meanie," she complains, rolling on the table. "What have I ever done to you to deserve this?" Then, as though nothing at all had happened, she twists to her front and props her chin on her palm, studying us. "Enlighten me. You said earlier we're supposed to do whatever you tell us to, but I was wondering who gets the final say in that. When you disagree, I mean. Are you going to, like, take a vote on that?"

I nod to Jake, who hesitates before moving to Lawton. I open my belt and slide it out of its loops, then let Ray hand it to Lawton as soon as both wrist and ankle cuffs are taken care of. Quinn watches the exchange with pursed lips and, if I'm not mistaken, sparkling eyes.

"Teach her not to talk back," I tell him.

Lawton frowns at the belt, as though he has no idea what to do with it. "Forget it," he says finally.

"This wasn't a suggestion." I heft my MP and point its muzzle at him.

"I said forget it," he says, still unwavering. Well, in that case. Time to haul out the big guns.

"Perhaps, if you care so little about your own life and that of your companion, we should remind you that there's one place we'd planned on visiting if this doesn't go down the way we want it to. The Torres family home, was it?" I smirk and look at the other guys, who nod their agreement.

Lawton's face turns several shades darker as he clutches the belt tight. "If you so much as touch them," he growls, eyes flashing with hatred.

"We're gonna do so much more than just touch them if you don't step on it," Ray says. He's a nasty bugger, that one. That's why I like him. "I wonder if little Zoe is going to scream for her daddy."

"Stop ignoring me, you bastard!" Quinn cuts in, rattling her chains like a child. Lawton, who was about to lunge for Ray's throat, stands rooted and perplexed. She wriggles her ass at him. "Instead of wasting your anger on that scumbag and getting yourself killed in the process, do me favor and use it on _me._ "

For a drawn-out moment, it seems like everyone in the room has stopped breathing.

"You want this?" Lawton asks, not believing his ears, but dare I say, intrigued.

"I _need_ this," she moans, a sound that goes straight to my cock. "It's gonna be so good." 

Yeah, baby. You tell him. Finally things seem to be looking up. Lawton hesitates again, but steps behind her.

"You sure about this?" he asks.

"Quit asking and do it already," she whines. "Before I die of boredom here."

The Joker must have done a number on that bitch for her to be this enthusiastic about a beating. I'm not complaining, though. It's exactly what I came here for.

Lawton folds over the belt and snaps it once. I get excited just from watching and from the looks of it, Quinn does too. She's biting her lip and grinning.

"Pants," I say, and when Lawton doesn't jump right away, Jake adds, "Show us that ass."

He complies then, sliding those ugly pale yellow pants down to reveal a pair of gorgeous long legs they've been hiding all along. Their appeal isn't lost on Lawton, whose fingers their way back up her thighs. Quinn squirms against them and lets out a happy sigh.

"Panties, too," I groan, somewhat annoyed. "Do I have to spell it all out for you?"

Lawton glares, but drags her panties out of the way too. Quinn gives a squeak of anticipation and leans forward, bracing herself on the table. Lawton gets in position too, gripping the belt tight and finally letting go of his inhibitions. The party's getting started.

The air hisses and a loud smack resounds through the room. Quinn cries out. "Yes!"

She takes it in good style, throwing her head back and moaning louder every time he adds another stripe. She eggs him on like this, encouraging him to hit her harder, make her bleed. "I want to feel this a month from now."

When I tell him to stop, she's red-faced, crying and quivering, but from lust, not fear or pain. Despite his initial scruples, Lawton himself liked this well enough, if the bulge in his pants is any indication. He has earned himself a treat.

Since Quinn can't undress him as long as she's cuffed to the table, he has to do it himself. He ain't as hesitant anymore. Probably thinks he gets to stick it in right away. I don't blame him. I'd wanna do the same. But I don't trust her yet.

I order Quinn to her knees and she happily, bonelessly almost, slips down as far as her chain gives.

"Wow, Buckshot!" Her eyes widen when she takes in his arousal. "Got you mighty excited for me, didn't it?"

"You know what to do," I say, and when he grabs her messy hair, I decide it's time to free my own straining cock from its confines. He doesn't need to guide her, she's eager to suck him off and moans with relish when she runs her tongue along his length. I mirror her movements with my hand, fisting my cock when his disappears into her mouth. She goes about it with so much enthusiasm, you'd think she never had anything tastier. The visuals are fucking amazing. She really knows how to put on a show.

And if I thought it couldn't get any better, she tops it off by swallowing him to the hilt and staying with her chin pressed to his balls until her body chokes on him. She comes up for air, runs her teeth along his cock, then does it again. Lawton groans, long and loud, and his fist flexes in her hair as though he's undecided whether to pull her off or to keep her there.

"Don't let him come yet," Ray growls. From the corner of my eye I see him hunched over the hand in his own pants. Not gonna hold out much longer, is he? On the other side of the room, Jake is only rubbing his cock through the fabric.

Quinn releases Lawton with a vulgar slurp and smirks up at him, eyes shining and chin wet with saliva.

I let Lawton know that it's his turn now, and by now the guy has learned enough to keep his trap shut. Probably wants to repay her for the service she's done him.

He hauls her up and shoves her into the table. He even gives her rump a resounding smack, before sliding his fingers between her legs. Quinn squeals in pleasure and writhes against his touch, trying to get him to touch her just right. Kneeling behind her, he flicks his tongue over her cunt and spreads her bruised cheeks to really taste her. Quinn gets going at that, gasping and panting and imploring every deity known to her.

Ray, with his hands furiously working at his crotch, orders Lawton to move his tongue higher, and this time, he doesn't protest. He continues rubbing her clit, but his mouth wanders upward and damn, I wouldn't mind a stab at that crack myself. He licks and sucks, working his tongue into her. WIth his other hand, he kneads her ass and teases her with his thumb. Quinn can't string together her curses fast enough. Then she yelps – did he really just bite her? – and lapses into a full-body shudder.

Lawton nips his way up the welts on her cheeks and fingers her through her orgasm. He rips her top over her head and opens her bra with his teeth, no longer needing instruction. Quinn's tits are perfect, large and round and soft-looking. He kneads one, and she mewls, arching against him.

"Yes, God, please do it," she begs him, and he meets her desire by replacing his fingers with his cock. If I could bring myself to interrupt the performance, I'd tell him to take it slow, because I want to watch her cunt take him inch by inch. He slides home in one slick push. She grinds herself against him, pleading him to take her harder, faster, deeper. Her screams grow so loud that I half-expect someone from administration to come down and check out the ruckus.

It doesn't take long for her to come a second time, quivering so violently she pulls Lawton with her over the edge.

She collapses onto the table with a sigh, but jerks upright again almost immediately. "Fucking cold," she says, then turns to Lawton, looking about ready to melt into him. "What, you done already? We were just getting started."

"Gimme a break, dollface," he huffs. "You can barely keep your legs straight."

"I wouldn't mind lying down for a second. Being chained hand and foot is a little inconvenient." She twists onto her back, tangling up her arms in her shirt, and undulates like a goddamn snake on display. "What do you say, boys? Care for a little hands-on experience? You must be tired of watching us already. I can make it good for you. I'll take you on all at once if that's what you want, just get me out of these fuckin' cuffs."

Well, there's an offer you don't hear every day, and who are we to deny her? Ray nearly jumps out of his clothes in his eagerness to get his hands on her. I throw Jake the keys, and notice him going starry-eyed when he kneels to open her ankle cuffs. Not surprising. She is one fine chick, and her willingness only makes her hotter.

She latches onto me as soon as her wrist cuffs slip off, and then I feel what Lawton must have felt earlier. Her tongue slips into my mouth as though she wants to suck out my soul. I might just let her. Ray presses himself against her back, licking her shoulder. He grabs her hips hard and grinds himself against her ass. Her fingers scrabble blindly up his face and card through his hair.

A sudden stab of pain flares in my head and all I see is red: Quinn's mouth as she pulls away from me and spits out a gob of blood. Ray's nose as she breaks it on the table. His throat, gaping and raw, as she rips it open with the cuffs. He gurgles hoarsely, clutching at the jagged wound, and drops to the floor.

Jake tries to flee, but Lawton hooks him in the stomach. He doubles over, but only until Quinn swings a folding chair at him and beats him as though playing ping pong with his head. He crumples into a bruised and bloody pulp, and that's the last image I see before I pass out.

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Disturbed's "Ten Thousand Fists."


End file.
